The Diary of Kattrin Haupt
by anpen
Summary: Based on Bertolt Brecht's 1939 play "Mother Courage and Her Children", "The Diary of Kattrin Haupt" is an examination of Kattrin's diary entries as the play moves forward. Scenes are listed as chapters as Kattrin sees them, so if Kattrin is not in Scene 4 then there is no chapter in the name of Scene 4. Spoilers. TW: Death, Rape
1. Prologue

Prologue

Dearest Voice,

I love playing my harmonica while my family sings. Yes, the songs they sing are sad, but when I play the harmonica, I have a voice. I can join in on their song. I have a part. It has a function, too. My family's song helps sell the stuff in mother's wagon. Every time someone buys something, it's because of the singing. When someone buys a bullet, it's because my brother Eilif's singing orders them to. When a customer buys a slab of cheese, I believe it's because of the deep voice of my brother Feyos, warning them that it will curdle if they don't buy it. The belts and pans echo like my mother's metallic voice. I like to think that my harmonica brings the customers to us. I love the feeling of my breath forcing extra notes through the harmonica when the wagon rides over a bump or hole in the dirt. Sometimes, Voice, I pretend that the breaths in my harmonica are the last breaths of the dead soldiers. Then my harmonica has more of a purpose. It's like I'm a soldier. Imagine – me! A soldier! Mother would never allow it. Mother probably wouldn't allow Eilif to become a soldier either. She needs us to sing the songs. She needs my brothers to pull the cart and she needs me to play my harmonica.


	2. Scene 1

Scene 1

Voice,

He's gone. They took him. This is the beginning of the end, I can feel it. I know it. Mother said so. Her crosses.

They stopped us to ask for papers. A Sergeant and a Recruiting Officer. Mother introduced all of us and they wouldn't let us pass. So then Mother tried her normal tactic of selling our ware from the cart. They were vaguely interested.

And that's when Mother entertained them with their futures.

She did as she always does: she draws a black cross on a slip of paper, and mixes it with other, blank slips. She then picks from the lot. The black cross is an omen of death. She's never wrong.

And we all had been drawn black crosses. The Sergeant got the first.

Then Eilif. Feyos. Me.

That's when the Sergeant distracted Mother with transactions as the Recruiting Officer led Eilif away. Eilif. I could see in his eyes the thirst for war. He wants honor and glory instead of our table scraps. I heard him tell Feyos that once. I tried to get Mother's attention but she was so focused on the business that she didn't notice.

I fear that's the last time I'll see him. The black cross looms over him, as it does us all.


	3. Scene 3

Scene 3

Dear Voice,

We saw Yvette today, She sang of such terrible things. Men taking her by the hand. Sacred rites and night's sacred rite, and fraternizing. I've never liked the idea of fraternizing. I understand that wonderful children are the aftermath, but the actual fraternizing is terrifying. Men always want to fraternize. Especially soldiers. Though I did try on her boots and hat. I felt so captivating! Even the Chaplain said so. But Mother didn't approve of me wearing them. She said I should learn a lesson. Haven't I already? I feel so torn. I want to feel captivating but when men look at me, I feel them look through me.

I wish I could sing. With Eilif gone, it's Feyos and I to look after the cart now while Mother gathers supplies. I'm sure he would listen to me sing. I would learn the most beautiful songs and sing them all to him. I would sing of Spring and flowers and children wearing crowns of petals. Feyos would listen. He's all I have now.


	4. Scene 3 Part 2

Scene 3.1

Voice,

The crosses. It happened. It was just us and now it's just me. Feyos is dead. He was watching over the cash box for the Sergeant, and didn't want to disappoint anyone. He went to hide it and…they found him. The man with one eye. When they dragged him to us, we had to pretend that we didn't know him. It was so hard to stare at the ground, my beloved brother restrained in their arms. For the brief moment I allowed myself to glance into his eyes, I saw that he understood.

Yvette came. Her and Mother devised a plan to sell the cart and its wares to obtain enough money to please my brother's captors. Mother took too long to haggle. It's always been business first. It's her livelihood; a hard habit to break. She ordered me to clean the knives. Even though it was obvious didn't want me to witness, I obeyed. But the knives couldn't distract me from the bickering, and the eventual drumroll. They thought I didn't know what the drums meant, but I knew. The drums meant that now both my brothers were lost.

The hardest part was staring at his body and pretending not to know him. Again. They shot him in the head and through the heart. Blood was still spilling as they brought him before us. I felt as if my own heart had been shot through, though I imagine a bullet would've been easier.

I already miss our conversations. He always understood me.

His black cross came in the form of his honesty. It's just me pulling the cart now.


	5. Scene 5

Scene 5

Voice,

I did it. I stood up to Mother today. She slapped me but that's not anything out of the ordinary. A family was trapped in their farmhouse and needed linen. The whole town was devastated from canons. I've seen too many towns like that. But this time it was different. Mother wouldn't give them the linen without seeing the payment first and Voice what is the sense in that when a family is in trouble?

The family escaped but their baby was still inside. I couldn't stop myself, not that I wanted to stop myself, and I ran into the rickety house to get the baby. It fell apart as soon as I escaped. The child is safe. It was startled and cried at first so I hummed to it. I tried to follow the tune that I usually play on my harmonica, and it seemed to work, for it stopped crying. It cried like a boy, had eyelashes like a girl, but smiled like a sapling.

At Mother's bidding, I gave it back to its mother. But before I did, I raised it high above my head. Someday that child will be important. If not to the world, it will be important to someone. If not to someone, it will be important to itself. It will be important.


	6. Scene 6

Scene 6

Voice. Men sing the strangest songs. Soldiers sing the strangest songs. Dirt paths sing the strangest songs. Bushes sing the strangest songs. Scars scream the strangest whispers.


	7. Scene 8

Scene 8

Dearest Voice,

I thought he was gone forever, but after today I know that is to be true. I saw Eilif. One last time, I saw him. I overheard the conversation when I was in the wagon. Eilif grew accustomed to wartime. He's not used to peace time. Peace has never reached our family. And now he pays for it. That will be the last time I hear his voice. I never got the chance to glimpse his face. He's gone. He's truly gone now. His black cross is truly hanged.


	8. Scene 9

Scene 9

Voice,

I'm glad he's gone. The cook, I mean. Mother had him around for a little bit, like her others. But everyone leaves. And that's not always a bad thing.

I'm stupid. I'm stupid. I'm stupid. I wish that were a good thing to be. But it's not, and I'm stupid. I always have been.


	9. Scene 10

Scene 10

Oh Voice,

I saw them! I saw them! Mother didn't see, but I did! I saw Eilif and Feyos! Feyos was singing. What a beautiful song; such a sad melody. With his voice and Eilif's drumming, it sounded like a march. All that was missing was my harmonica.

They were speaking to me. I know it. I don't know whether I'm hopeful about that or not, but either way I got to see them again, before they disappeared.


	10. Scene 11

Scene 11

Voice –

The drum. I can't stop. The village must wake up. They're coming. I need to keep going. I can't stop. I can't. I. Can't.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Dearest Voice,

She pawned by harmonica for a slab of meat.

We boarded our own wagon, and we watched Mother pull the cart away before we headed in the other direction.

I love singing with my brothers. We sing chants and hymns and old folk songs. Sometimes the soldiers join in too. They all have a part. Sometimes the soldiers fight each other but they get back to singing eventually. But we never stop singing. I never stop singing.


End file.
